Pomeranians & Piercings

This year for my birthday I am going to pierce my nose. Why, yes, I AM serious. For no other reason than I like tiny, little shiny things. Kind of like a bird who is willing to get run over on the freeway in exchange for a sequin. It also has significant personal meaning for me, but there's no point in trying to explain how an additional hole in a body part that already has 2 can hold biblical relevance.

I am also going to save up and buy an annoying, yapping miniature furball that can wear obnoxious sweaters and be called things like "pookie". Yes, I AM saying this with a straight face. I am going to save up for a mini Pomeranian, although I doubt I can afford a true micro and will instead have to get a purse/pocket size. More's the pity......... the micro ones are truly the most irritatingly cute. They actually make me throw up a little in my mouth they are so kawaii. Perhaps I'll commit true cute suicide and name it Bijou and teach it to potty in the toilet, and buying it little carpeted steps so it can sit on my bed and shed.

Michael is none too pleased with either of these developments, but in true Michael fashion has approved my pursuit of idiocy in hopes that I get sidetracked before July. The odds are in his favor actually. I have wandered off the clear path of many grand pursuits because I saw something shiny and became, figuratively speaking, of course, roadkill on the busy freeway of life.

This project will from henceforth be known as the Furball Fund and I highly recommend donating large sums of money to it. My family can donate to the cause because they find it highly amusing to complicate Michael's life with his wife's shenanigans (they had to put up with it for years after all), and his family can donate to it because an annoying, needy little dog almost guarantees that I won't have a reproductive relapse and try to procreate. Again. Note the "veiled" threat here.

And, no, I am NOT using up my Midlife Crisis. Believe me, you can write my current behavior off to possible just sheer stupidity, but when I have my midlife meltdown, you won't be able to mistake it for anything else.

Take Your House Plant To Vote Day

It's been awhile, hasn't it? I am undertaking a project, aptly entitled "Therapy for Thirty" that is analyzing and reconstructing weak points of my life from the top down. For those who have lost track, I am turning 30 this year, and I refuse to arrive at my thirtieth birthday with the same set of problems I had in my twenties. I plan on creating a whole new set of problems.

We are also currently struggling through a situation with the retarded girl next door. Granted, she is not technically retarded, but I think that if you spent any time with her at all you might feel less inclined to complain about such a politically incorrect moniker. She is trying to "become" part of our family by inserting herself into our life each and every night and I am just about to reach my breaking point. She's quite dreadful, and I think God is punishing me for something (and it must be something absolutely horrible to merit something like this). I keep trying to tell myself that it is an opportunity for us as a family to learn empathy and how to work through socially difficult situations in casual relationships. Unfortunately it is not working out. The younger girls are polite certainly, but Summer finds her repulsive to the max and has decided to start a blog entitled "Wisdom & Wit From The Retarded Girl Next Door". Michael vetoed it, of course, but I'm considering an override. I mean, some of the things that verbally vomit themselves out of this girls mouth really need to be recorded for posterity. Including the lie (and an odd lie that it was) brought forth this weekend that she was voted the most "Christ"like Basketball Player. Because Jesus was always up for a little one on one.... what? You didn't know that? You are an idiot. You see what I mean? Retarded.

Today is Super Tuesday, which is far more exciting for me than the Super Bowl by far. In fact, it only stands second to the actual election day and when politicians get publicly charged with tapping their feet at other "patrons" in public bathrooms. I also am rather keen on "Talk Like A Pirate Day" (my youngest son was born on that day!) and "Take Your House Plant For A Walk" day.